Ace Combat: Sky of Spectres
by swimmingcop
Summary: The Lighthouse War draws to a close, but peace never comes. Chaos rages across the Usean continent. Nations and rising Megacorps skirmish over territory and resources. And all the while, strange creatures of flesh and metal are stirring to life from their underground tombs and taking to the skies for the first time in eons—and their intentions are anything but peaceful…


_A/N: This story contains spoilers for Crysis, Ace Combat 7, and previous Ace Combat games. A cursory understanding of the series' respective settings would help, but is not required for reading._

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

**December 10, 2019**

**Sudentor**

The headquarters of Gründer Industries was a spartan thing, a nondescript four-story office building utterly dwarfed by the skyscrapers flanking it in downtown Sudentor. Underneath the cold gray sky of North Osea (or South Belka, depending on who you asked), the building was almost invisible. Hundreds of people walked by it every day, without ever wondering what it was actually _for_.

Which, to the majority shareholder and president of Gründer, was the whole point.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" his- aide, second, whatever the proper term was, asked him. She wasn't on any of the company's official payrolls, a fact that suited them both just fine. No one needed to know why he had a military logistician from North Point working directly for him.

"I did," he said, noting how she winced at his voice. Apparently he sounded even worse these days. Although if that wasn't an indication of his failing health, the rattling in his chest and the fact that sliding her a folder across his desk was a painful strain on his muscles told him all he needed to know.

She picked it up and scanned through the pages.

"I see," she said after a while. "We'll definitely need to scale back all operations if Osea manages to uncover anything with this investigation of theirs. Probably get a few members of the board to take the fall for-"

"That's not going to be enough," he cut her off. "After that mess with the UAVs at the space elevator, the Osean Federation finally decided they'd had enough of our actions. This audit-"

He gestured to the report in her hands.

"-Is just the start. They've already made preemptive arrests on some of our managerial staff in the Oured branch office, and sent extradition requests for our top staff in other facilities. And from what my sources have gathered, they're planning to freeze our stock and seize a lot of our assets. No one's admitting it yet, but this is the end for Gründer Industries."

Christina Asher had never been the most expressive person, but even still, her eyes widened instinctively at her boss's words. Gründer was the undisputed leader in bleeding-edge military technology and worth more than almost every weapons manufacturer across the globe _combined_. It was practically impossible to enter the research or engineering field without working for or with someone affiliated with them. He might as well have told her that water was dry and the sun wouldn't rise tomorrow.

"Well," she said, hoping she sounded calm. "That changes things."

"Yes, it does." He sighed. "I'm afraid our previous timetable is no longer viable. We must move with all haste now. Gründer's days are numbered, as are mine, unfortunately."

"Sir?" she asked. He could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"The board of directors is uneasy and looking for someone to blame," he said. "As many of them are also unhappy with my leadership, I suspect I will not be retaining my position at the company."

Another reason for crystallizing his decision. He created one of the largest corporations in history and used it to foster conflict across the globe for the better half of a century, and the nationalistic morons he'd placed in the boardroom had been all too happy to help in his schemes over the years. It was almost karmic, in a way, that those same idiots would prove to be his downfall.

_Fools. As if nations and borders meant a goddamn thing to what we're up against._

"Not that it matters much, since I won't be around for much longer," he mused, taking a look at the world map on the wall. Various countries on it were highlighted; places where Gründer had established offices, research centers, foundries. Every single one of those nations, from Osea to Yuktobania, had become highly militarized over the past few decades of near-constant warfare. The world was as ready as it would ever be.

And yet, it wasn't enough. Even the most diehard optimist would agree if they knew what was coming. But it was all he could do. If only there had been more time…

He shook himself out of his thoughts. It didn't matter now, all that was left was to move forward.

"In any event, you're to proceed with the project," he said at last.

Christina stiffened in realization. There was only one project he could be talking about.

"You'll need a team, resources, and a base," he continued as Christina's mind went into overdrive. "I've already secured some assets for you in Ice Creek, on the northern edge of Usea. Between the fact that it's out of the way and how busy the rest of the continent is, you should remain unnoticed for some time. You'll also need a… subject."

Christina started, then went for her briefcase. "About that, sir," she said, retrieving a folder and passing it to him. "Yesterday, an IUN squadron was sent to Snider's Top to clear out Free Erusean forces that were looking to steal some of the abandoned naval vessels in the area."

"And?" he thumbed through the pages, then paused when he got to the images.

"Our assets in the Osean Intelligence Agency intercepted those from the partially-restored satellite network," she explained. "If we move fast, we can sweep the area before anyone else does, find survivors if there are any."

He arched an eyebrow. "You want to ask them if they'd like to volunteer?"

"The pilots had experience flying for an international military force. Right now, they're the best candidates we've got."

"And if they're dead by the time you get there?" he asked, gauging her reaction.

Christina paused. "I'll do what's necessary, Mr. Hargreave," she said.

Her voice was even and decisive. Good. Unpleasant as it was, decency and morality were luxuries that couldn't be afforded if the project was to succeed.

"See to it that you do," he said, then turned away. The dismissal was clear, and Christina had worked with him long enough to take the hint.

He waited until well after she left his office before opening a drawer on his desk. It only took a moment to fish out the handgun inside, a moment more to hesitate. So many things could go wrong. If Asher wasn't up to the task, if they couldn't find a volunteer for the project in time, if it would even succeed…

_No_, something said from within him, something final. It would work. It would have to. He had done everything he could and besides, it was time for him. Past that, even.

Jack Hargreave closed his eyes.

The gunshot was deafening in the corner office of Gründer Industries Headquarters.

* * *

**December 9, 2019**

**Snider's Top**

"Fox two."

The radar lock warning sound buzzed in Lia Watts's ears as she pulled the stick hard to the right, her F/A-18F rolling madly even as she loosed a missile at the MQ-99 in front of her.

It was a perfect shot. The missile caught the enemy drone mid-turn, perforating its body. It continued on its trajectory for only a few seconds before its wings crumbled apart like ashes in the wind. The UAV wobbled, onboard computer trying desperately to keep it in the air, but it was an impossible task; the only place the drone was going was towards the ground.

Or the water, in its case.

"Splash one hostile! Nice shooting," said her backseater, Rudy Stephens.

Watts grunted, leveling out the Super Hornet and glancing at her instruments. No sidewinders left, but she still had five AMRAAMs and plenty of machine gun ammunition. More than enough to keep fighting.

_Not that there's much left to fight,_ she mused. There were few targets in the area to begin with, barely anything hostile was left on the radar after she and the rest of Warlock Squadron went through them.

Still, it didn't hurt to check. She keyed her radio.

"Torchbearer, requesting picture, over."

"Warlock Three, picture clear," said AWACS Torchbearer. "Warlock One and Two are mopping up the destroyer to your southeast, but all other resistance has already been suppressed."

Watts slumped into her seat, fingers clenched around the stick. Normally, she felt relieved at the end of a mission but now she just felt… cold.

It was probably just the weather, she decided after a moment. The ColdAsFuck nature of Snider's Top's glaciers and mountains were enough to dampen anyone's mood after a while.

"Hey," Stephens spoke up. "Cheer up a little, would you? We got out of here alive, didn't we?"

"Considering what we were up against? Not much of an accomplishment," said Watts. "At this point, I just wish Free Erusea either died out or gathered in real numbers. This is just embarrassing."

They passed over a valley, the waters so choked with the carcasses of naval vessels and shattered concrete that it almost dammed the waterway entirely. It had probably been a hell of a battle, thought Watts, taking on an entire fleet and the stations it was docked at. Especially considering the aftermath was severe enough that the wrecks were still prominent even now.

Whoever had been here a few months ago fought a battle. Warlock Squadron, who sortied to take on five drones and a destroyer? They fought a skirmish. If even that.

"Yeah, I hear you on that," Stephens said after a moment. "But at least we took this corner from them. They're not long for this world at the rate we're going through them."

Watts doubted it. Unlike most nations, guerilla movements had an ugly tendency to persist even when continuing the fight was beyond unreasonable. Free Erusea probably wasn't down and out yet, and it was definitely going to drag her squadron into at least a few more half-hearted skirmishes before they rotated out and someone else took their place.

"Warlock Squadron, mission complete. Regroup and RTB," came the voice of the squadron leader. Watts radioed an acknowledgement and turned her craft south, towards Warlock One and Two.

Four showed up on her wing when they were halfway there.

"Hey you two," said the pilot, Reid Burns. "How are you holding up after that _harrowing_ mission just now?"

"Watts is sad she didn't get to kill anyone," said Stephens.

"Aw, that's too bad. You know, you really need to-"

She immediately cut him off. "If you were about to say, 'lighten up, _Watts_,' I swear I'll-"

Watts never managed to finish her threat. The words barely left her lips before Warlock Four came apart in a ball of fire. Its fuel and munitions ignited, turning the aircraft into a flying explosion, little shards of metal tumbling out of the sky where Four used to be.

Glowing lines blew through the smoke and afterimage of the explosion. They had to be tracers, but if they were the bullets were moving way too fast to track, it looked like a continuous laser beam had sliced Four into pieces.

"Shit!" Watts threw the jet into a hard turn, more out of instinct and panic than anything else. The radio erupted with shouts from the squadron leader and AWACS, but she shut them out in favor of more pressing matters. "Stephens!"

"U-unknown contact!" he called out, sounding strained under the g-forces they were under. "It's barely on radar, can't tell where it- look out!"

Watts instinctively brought the thrusters to full power and pitched up at his words.

It didn't help.

From somewhere behind them, several lines of bullets screamed past, white-hot and impossible to evade. Most of them missed, but more than enough were on target. Their Super Hornet's right wing was immediately sheared off under the assault, the engines were shredded, and the glass of the canopy cracked, spiderwebbed, and shattered all in one instant.

Watts coughed up a river of blood into her oxygen mask. A cold, wet feeling emerged in her chest. Distantly, she realized she'd been hit somewhere vital. More distantly, she realized that Stephens wasn't making any noise, and her instruments were blaring in alarm.

She pulled the eject handle and rocketed out of the thoroughly-ventilated aircraft moments before the whole thing plunged downwards, most of it disintegrating mid-air. The sudden jerk as her parachute deployed sent her into an eye-watering coughing fit. Breathing had become difficult, and something was telling her it had to do with the stinging she felt in her back.

Something blew past her as she descended. Watts saw a massive beetle-like carapace suspended by a pair of glowing red rings, one on each side of its silver-black body. It ghosted above the water like some apparition of myth and slid south across the sky, further towards the rest of her squadron. And… and…

_There was nothing she could do._

Her parachute dropped her unceremoniously on a lonely glacier pushed up against the mountains, for all the good it did her. Breathing was impossible now. Standing was impossible. Everything felt… numb.

Lia Watts fell down and did not get up. The last thing that went through her mind was to wonder how in the hell everything had gone wrong so fast. Then, nothing.

* * *

**Time: Unknown**

**Location: Unknown**

"_Over there. You see that?"_

"_Yeah I do. Jesus."_

"_Looks like this was the only one to eject."_

"_For all the good that did him."_

"_Her, but yeah."_

"_How can you tell?"_

"_Because these are her dog tags, and I know how to read. Lia Katherine Watts, OADF. Call it in."_

"_You can't be serious."_

"_The order was to recover anyone we could. Wouldn't you know it, we found someone to recover."_

"_A corpse."_

"_They don't need someone alive. Just someone intact."_

"_She's in pieces."_

"_Intact enough. You gonna make any more excuses, or are you gonna call it in?"_

"…_I'll call it in." _

"_Good."_

"_God forgive us."_

"_Trust me buddy, if there's any justice in this world, he won't."_

* * *

_A/N: Now, I should be focusing on any number of my non-fanfiction obligations. And even if I elected to ignore them, I should probably focus on updating my existing stories, especially Psychosis. But I was having a lot of fun playing through Ace Combat 7 again, and some part of me thought that a writing a crossover like this would be a really good idea(™)_

_The rest, as they say, is history_


End file.
